


change of pace

by kenzsza



Series: College AU [6]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018), The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: 7000 words and most of it is them talking because they wont shut up, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, But sort of?, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Foot Jobs, M/M, Not Really?, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Smut, im so embarrassed i wrote this and i dont know why, just two really horny college students or something i guess, kind of?, please have mercy on me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 17:14:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenzsza/pseuds/kenzsza
Summary: “I’ve been thinking about something,” Achilles says out of nowhere.“That’s always dangerous,” Pat replies.
Relationships: Achilles & Patroclus (Song of Achilles), Achilles/Patroclus, Achilles/Patroclus (Song of Achilles), Achilles/Patroclus of Opus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Series: College AU [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146224
Comments: 11
Kudos: 89





	change of pace

**Author's Note:**

> please read the tags!

Achilles never sugar coated anything. Not when he was six and he loudly announced at breakfast he’d heard his parents wrestling the night before (his dad had squirted milk from his nose, something Achilles only realized was a very valid response years later). Not when Dei asked him out in eighth grade and he told her he couldn’t date her because she smelled too much like mayonnaise (she’d slapped him across the face for that- also a valid response). Certainly not when he told his parents he had applied and been accepted to a school two thousand miles away (his mom had looked like she was going to cry- not at all a valid response, Mom… suck it up, he was eighteen for Christ’s sake).

Therefore, he saw no reason to not just tell Pat everything the way it is. Pat was much more important than his dad’s pride and Dei’s gross smelling ass and _way_ better than his mother’s opinions on anything.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Achilles says out of nowhere. He and Pat had their pre-approved schedule: be gay in the cafeteria for breakfast, be gay while they were forced apart in class, be gay in the cafeteria for lunch, be gay in the library while Pat was a productive member of society, be gay in Pat’s apartment because Achilles would rather eat his own shoe than go back to his dorm with Aggie of all people. This was their designated ‘be gay in the library’ time. 

“That’s always dangerous,” Pat replies. He doesn’t look up from his notes, but Achilles decides he will allow the lack of eye contact since Pat is trailing a hand up and down his thigh. “Can we change the song? I can’t focus.”

Achilles turns so fast to glare at Pat that his headphone wire whips his boyfriend in the face. Serves him right. “Absolutely not. The _High School Musical_ soundtrack is not something that cannot be skipped.”

“Skipping,” Pat says anyways. He takes Achilles’ phone from his lap and goes to the next song. Achilles should’ve known better than to offer to share his earbuds after Pat left his at home. He was lucky he’s cute.

“Anyways, I’ve been thinking for the past two weeks-”

“Wow. Impressive. I can’t even have your undivided attention for ten minutes.”

“-And I wanted to ask you about something-”

“You’re stalling,” Pat points out. He glances at Achilles out of the corner of his eye. “You make it very obvious when you’re stalling.”

“ _Patroclus._ ” Achilles did not know he was signing up to date a terrible, terrible boyfriend when he fell for Pat. He drapes himself across the table, right over Pat’s papers so he can’t keep ignoring him. “I'm not stalling, you're just being annoying. Can't you listen to me for two seconds?” 

Pat moves his hand so it isn’t trapped under Achilles’ stomach and rests it on his back instead. “Okay, sure.” He gestures for Achilles to continue.

Achilles opens his mouth to speak. “I thought it would be fun-”

“One.”

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t you dare.” 

“Two.” Pat smiles down at him. “Alright, your two seconds are up. Can I go back to work now?”

Achilles sits up and turns to glare at Pat. “This is boyfriend abuse!” he says. He takes Pat’s face between his hands and shakes his head like he’s rattling a jar of coins. Pat only laughs, nose wrinkled with joy as he tries to pry Achilles away with a hand on his wrist. “I am being neglected, Patroclus! Pay attention to me!”

"Okay, okay!" Pat giggles. One of the students working the desk shushes them. By now, Achilles is pretty sure all the librarians knew exactly who he and his boyfriend were. They usually gave them a long stare whenever the pair walked through the door. Pat says they dread when the two of them come in, but Achilles wouldn't know why. 

He's so pretty when he smiles. Achilles lets his fingers roam Pat's face: a thumb across his lip, his fingertips grazing the curve of his forehead, the back of his hand brushing the slope of his cheek. His hands can never sit still when he talks, and touching Pat gave him the perfect distraction. It had unsettled Pat when they first started dating, but he's learned to sit still and look cute. After all, it's what he does best. 

"I would like your honest answer," Achilles tries again. 

"'Kay." His thumb rubs little circles around Pat's temple. Up close, his eyelashes are long and his freckles are scattered across his face like stars waiting to be mapped out. Achilles moves his thumb and presses it to the mole over Pat's lip. 

Alright, the moment of truth. "Do you watch porn in your free time?" 

Achilles has never seen Pat's smile drop his face so quickly. "Oh my god," he says, and Achilles takes it as incentive to continue. 

"It's alright if you do-" 

"We are _not_ talking about this right now."

"-since I do too-" 

"Achilles." 

"Don't worry!" Achilles reassures him. "I always think of you when I do!" 

" _Achilles!_ " Pat slaps a hand over Achilles' mouth to silence him. His palm smells nice, fresh and floral like some kind of flower. "Not here," he hisses. His cheeks are flushed red, and he glares at Achilles as if willing him to stay quiet. 

"Mmpprgg," Achilles tries. 

"No. I'm not letting go until you swear not to talk any more. You're banned from speaking." Achilles narrows his eyes. Two could play at that game. He sticks out his tongue and licks Pat's palm. Yeah, flowers. Smells great, tastes terrible. Pat only rolls his eyes. "Dude, I've sucked your dick. Licking my hand doesn't gross me out anymore."

Achilles sighs through his nose. He really needed to improve his boyfriend irritating techniques. 

… 

Pat tells Achilles he is not allowed to bring it up again until he says so. He does not say so until they're back at his apartment, the door locked behind Pat and his bag tossed haphazardly into the living room. 

"Next time you do anything like that," he says, pulling Achilles to his chest by his belt loops, "I will not hesitate to smack you."

Achilles has nowhere to look but Pat's lips considering they're at perfect kissing height. "Do what?" he asks. His head is buzzing with desire. 

"Talk about literally anything sex related when we're in public." Pat leans forwards and presses their lips together. He'd been mortified earlier, but he's always much more relaxed at home. He's not nearly as high strung, always very willing to do whatever Achilles initiates. Or, recently, he's happy to initiate things himself. 

"It was an honest question," Achilles murmurs against his mouth. 

"Too honest." Pat grabs him by the back of his neck to hold him in place. Achilles had learned very quickly that he liked it very much when Pat did that. 

"Where's my answer?" Achilles asks. He feels more than hears Pat exhale in exasperation, his breath puffing against Achilles' face. 

Pat tugs at Achilles' hair. It's tied back in a ponytail, out of his face but not to Pat's liking. He was funny about having his hair down. "Not really," he admits. Pat looks off to the side. He doesn't often get flustered anymore when it's just them, so it takes Achilles by surprise. "I don't know. It feels kind of weird, you know? Watching other people have sex." His fingers play with the curls at the nape of Achilles' neck. "Kind of awkward. And it's all staged, so…" 

Achilles wants to touch Pat everywhere: his face, his sides, his thighs, but he settles on putting his hands on his boyfriend's chest. He can feel Pat's heart race under his palm. "Okay, well I wanted to try something I saw in one." His shoulders are wide under Achilles' palms. He smooths out the front of Pat's shirt as an excuse to feel his body. 

His boyfriend looks hesitant. "What is it?" He sounds just as doubtful, too. 

He doesn't mean to brag, but Achilles is full of great ideas. Like, ninety-nine percent of his ideas were awesome. Including this one he comes up with on the spot. "I mean, I could tell you… or I could show you the video." 

Now Pat is really embarrassed. His cheeks flush with color, and his eyes are big and round like a deer in headlights. "What? Just tell me-" 

"It'll be fun," Achilles insists. He does the thing that always made Pat agree with what he says: he pouts, lower lip jutting out and green eyes wide with desperation. 

Pat sighs and bumps his forehead against Achilles'. He is not immune. 

… 

Achilles is right: it _is_ fun. 

He sits on Pat's bed with his boyfriend between his legs and his open laptop at the end of the mattress. There's overexaggerated whimpers and moans playing through the speakers, but Achilles is more interested in the soft gasps coming from right in front of him. His hand is down the front of Pat's pants, stroking him in time with the guy jacking it in the video. 

Pat's head is back, resting on Achilles' shoulder as he pants and twitches in his palm. His entire body trembles with need. Achilles is reminded once again how much he loves this boy as he unravels at the seams. 

"What did I tell you?" Achilles asks, lips pressed to Pat's cheek. He cranes his neck and kisses away the tears that gather at the corners of Pat's eyes. 

"Just shut up." Achilles twists his hand particularly mean, and Pat sobs and bucks his hips up into him. He's hard in his pants, erection pressed against Pat's ass, but Achilles ignores it for now. It was always much more rewarding to watch Pat fall apart because of him anyway. 

He's beautiful in every way possible. Achilles can't help but be absolutely fascinated with every part of Pat. His eyes watch intently as his boyfriend's tongue flicks out to wet his lips, his heart aches with longing when Pat flinches and tries to cringe away from Achilles' hand as he speeds up his pace. 

Okay, so Achilles was pretty damn smart. This had to be the sexiest thing he'd ever seen- well, second sexiest. The first place for sexiness was taken by the time he'd thrown a goldfish cracker at Pat and his boyfriend managed to catch it in his mouth from fifteen feet away. Achilles had been ready to bend over and present himself right there. 

Pat tenses and makes a pitiful noise in the back of his throat as he comes. All Achilles can do is help him through his climax with gentle encouragement and kisses peppered all over his face. When he's finished, he buries his face in Achilles' neck and tries to catch his breath. 

"So?" Achilles asks as Pat collapses in his arms in a tired heap. 

"Huh?" 

"So do you want to try something like that?" 

Pat blinks a few times, eyes dazed. "I'll be honest with you," he says, voice raspy and words slurred from exhaustion, "I did not pay attention to a single second of it."

Achilles groans and wipes a hand over his face. Okay, so maybe he should have waited at least a few seconds before jumping his boyfriend. It wasn't his fault Pat was so damn pretty! He reaches around Pat to play the video again, and his boyfriend curls up against his chest with a tired sigh. 

…

Achilles must have done something to win the universe's favor, because he has the handsomest tutor possible. He thanks his lucky stars every time he glances up from his homework and sees Pat twisting his pen thoughtfully against his cheek. He'd have graduated high school sooner if he knew the college experience was a five course meal with a show. 

Pat meets his gaze and frowns. Ah, oops. Achilles was supposed to be doing homework right now. Or studying. Or… doing a project? He'd honestly forgotten what he was working on. 

"Pay attention," he says, gesturing to the papers in front of Achilles. Achilles can't even remember what subject they were for. He tries to focus on the words, but they only blur together into an unintelligible mess. Every nerve in his body is tingling, his fingers itching to touch Pat. How was he supposed to get anything done? 

All Achilles can think about is Pat- his Patroclus. How pretty he is even when he looks so exasperated with Achilles, curly hair pulled back in a loose bun. Achilles looks up again for just a glimpse of his tutor, and Pat actually sets his pen down to glare at him. 

"What did I just say?" he asks. His eyes are the sweetest honey brown. Achilles suddenly realizes he has no idea what the last thing Pat said was. 

"Uh," he responds intelligently. Achilles had been too busy watching Pat’s lips to really catch what he’d been saying.

"Work." 

Achilles ducks his head back down, although his mind is anywhere but the work in front of him. They were working on something for his communications class. That must be it. Pat had offered to help Achilles with his speech on some motivational bullshit or another. He’d initially laughed at Achilles for even having a speech class in _college_ , but such was the fate of an undecided major trying to find his way. As of now, Achilles was trying to decide between Sports Marketing or Global Studies. Or History. Or Entrepreneurship, but wasn’t that just basically Business Lite?

Pat clears his throat, and Achilles realizes his pen has just been hovering over his notebook for a solid two minutes. "Where is your mind today?" he asks. The usual gentle concern is gone from his voice, replaced by something closer to irritation. (He's doing his best, but it's hard for Pat to ever sound too upset at Achilles.) "I'm not getting paid to watch you stare off into space."

_You're not getting paid at all,_ Achilles' mind supplies helpfully. He isn't sure if he said it aloud or if they've been together long enough for Pat to know what he's thinking, but his boyfriend (tutor, Pat was just his tutor in this scene they'd curated) narrows his eyes either way. 

"I'm gonna take a break," Achilles announces. Because honestly, he hasn't been getting anything done, so maybe taking a breather would help clear his head. He starts to scoot his chair back-

But it's pulled in again. Pat's foot is between his legs, hooked under the seat and dragging the chair back under the table. Achilles stiffens in surprise, back straight as a rod. He's scared to even breathe or else Pat might retaliate. Had he always been that strong? The thought makes Achilles tremble. " _Work_ ," Pat repeats. 

Achilles' hand shakes when he picks up his pen once more. Pat doesn't move his foot, still positioned dangerously close to Achilles' crotch. It's in Achilles' peripheral as he starts to write. His handwriting is barely legible at best, words veering up at an angle as he tries not to think about Pat staring at him. 

_A pivotal point in my life was when…_ Achilles feels a drop of sweat roll down the back of his neck. They'd talked about this beforehand, but he was still buzzing with nerves. Or was it excitement? The two tend to blur together when he's with Pat. 

Pat leans forward. _...I applied to college across the country…_ Achilles flinches at the sound of the pen's point scratching unceremoniously. It's as if it's amplified in his ears, ringing in his head like a bell in a bell tower. 

It's slow, but it still takes him by surprise. Achilles feels a pressure between his legs that only grows more intense. He chokes on his own spit, pen clattering from his hand and onto the table uselessly. He's frozen in place, paralyzed under Pat's stare. 

"What's wrong?" he asks, as if his foot wasn't pressed against Achilles' crotch. 

Achilles shakes his head frantically. "Nothing." Nope, everything was completely fine. Just dandy. He wasn't getting an erection at all. 

"Then keep writing." Pat crosses his arms. 

It's next to impossible to focus, not when Pat is watching him so intensely. Unblinking, like a hawk stalking its prey. Achilles manages a few words on his paper before Pat is nudging at his balls, rolling them against the ball of his foot. He fists his hair in one hand in an attempt to stay grounded. 

Pat knows everything Achilles likes. He was a quick learner, always able to pick up on what he wanted even before Achilles could realize for himself. His heel digs into the base of Achilles' dick, and Achilles can't help but whine. His hips buck against his will, grinding his cock against Pat's foot. He isn't getting the friction he needs through his jeans. One hand goes under the table to touch himself, but Pat clears his throat.

Achilles clenches his hand tighter in his blond locks. The pain does nothing to distract him from Pat's foot rubbing up and down his clothed shaft. His stomach does the funny thing where it tightens when he's especially aroused, and Achilles can't hold the pen between his fingers anymore. It drops to the table once more. Achilles grabs Pat by the ankle to keep him in place and rolls his hips up against his foot with a choked gasp. 

"You can't even write one sentence," Pat chides. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "You're too busy acting like a dog in heat. Can't you do _anything?_ " Achilles wants to argue that he's really in quite a predicament here, but he's too busy gasping for breath as he ruts against Pat's foot. If he could just unzip his pants, or stick a hand down his boxers and give himself a few strokes-

Pat scoots back in his chair, and the sweet pressure from before is gone as he plants his feet on the ground. Achilles whines at the loss, stuffing his hands between his legs and grinding against them. He knows if he does much else, he'll lose it in an instant. 

"Please," Achilles manages. He looks up at his tutor through his eyelashes, blinking back tears. Desperation gnaws in his stomach. "Let me show you I can be better." 

(Pat can barely restrain the way his expression twists crudely in response. He'd never been one for this kind of bedroom talk. He said it was too much, too scripted and weird.)

There's a short pause where Achilles worries he's truly disappointed Pat. But the other man sighs. "Fine." Achilles perks up. "Get on the floor." 

Achilles practically falls out of his chair to obey. He crawls in front of Pat on his hands and knees. Pat stands with his hands on his hips, staring down at Achilles almost disapprovingly. It would make him feel bad if there wasn't an obvious tent in Pat's pants. 

"I've taught you this much, haven't I?" Pat says, more of a statement than a question. Achilles jerks his head in a nod as his fingers fumble at the zipper on Pat's jeans. He was good. Achilles knew how to please Pat, and that's all that mattered in his world. 

He tugs Pat's jeans down past his thighs and sits up on his knees. His erection strains against the front of his boxers, begging to be in Achilles' mouth. Pat reaches out and tangles a hand in Achilles' blond curls. 

(He was supposed to keep his hands to himself, pretend that he wasn't enjoying this as much as he was. But Pat likes touching Achilles' hair, and Achilles would never deprive his boyfriend of what he desires.) 

"Achilles," Pat murmurs. Achilles looks up at the sound of his name and smiles. His boyfriend's- _tutor's_ brown eyes are fogged over with lust, lips parted as he gazes down at the boy between his legs. This is where Achilles belongs. They both knew it. 

He noses Pat's clothed dick. It's warm underneath the soft cotton. Achilles wraps his lips around the shape of its head and sucks gently. It leaves his mouth dry, but it's worth it to hear Pat's strangled moan. His fingers tighten in Achilles' hair and hold him in place. 

Achilles wraps a hand around Pat's calf as he licks at his cock through his underwear. He feels if he doesn't hold onto something, he'll surely float away. His head is in a whole other place, his only thoughts devoted to drawing out those sweet little noises from Pat's lips. 

(This was what Achilles liked best about their sex life. He could tap into an entirely different side of himself, and he knew Pat would hold his hand along the way. He was safe. Protected, even.)

Eventually, the front of Pat's boxers is damp from spit and pre-cum. Achilles isn't mean enough to make him climax in his shorts, so he tugs the waistband of his underwear down enough so Pat's erection springs free. He takes its length in one hand, and Pat tips his head back and shivers. 

_He's big._ It had been daunting at first, not knowing if Achilles would ever be able to pleasure Pat the way he deserved. But Achilles had also decided a month into dating Pat that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. There was no way in hell he was letting go of the sweet, awkward boy who made his heart do all sorts of flips and turns with just the smallest smile. So, he had to get used to his size. 

Achilles presses his lips to the tip of his dick. Pat can only sigh. He gathers Achilles' hair into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of his face, and Achilles glances up at him gratefully. It could get in the way sometimes, but he wouldn't dare cut it. 

He can only take so much at a time. Achilles does his best: licking what little he adds as he manages to fit more down his throat, sucking when he grows used to it. Pat sobs like he's dying, hips trembling with effort to stay still. Achilles moves his hands up to grip them tight. Pat is soft around the edges there, the perfect place to pinch when he annoyed Achilles or to hold onto when Achilles fucked into him. The thought makes him moan around his dick. 

His mouth waters, and Achilles feels a line of spit dribbling down his chin. It's difficult, but he relaxes his throat and takes the rest of his length. Achilles' nose buries in dark curls, and he exhales softly in relief. 

(Pat hesitates, never quite able to take what he wants despite how many times Achilles offered. _You can use me,_ he'd said beforehand, and he'd meant it. His body was made for Pat the way he'd been born to run. But it didn't ease Pat's concern.)

Pat's hips move against his will, twitching back and jerking forward as if he were losing all control. And maybe he was. Achilles had long since stopped choking when he takes Pat, and he only hums in approval as his tutor starts to fuck into his mouth. Both his hands grip Achilles' head as he slams into him again and again. _As if he were nothing more than a hole to be used._ The thought made Achilles' dick twitch, a reminder he was still painfully hard. 

There's the familiar stutter of Pat's hips and the strangled sob that indicate he's dangerously close. Achilles closes his eyes. He doesn't mind if Pat comes in his mouth, paints the back of his throat. It wouldn't be the first time, and certainly not the last. But Pat manages to stop himself just in time, panting as he comes down from the promise of a high. 

"Good," he wheezes. "You're so good." Achilles parts from his dick, a thin trail of saliva connecting his lips to the tip. He wipes his mouth unceremoniously with the back of his hand and rests his forehead against Pat's thigh. A shiver runs down his spine as Pat pets his hair. "You know how you can be better?" 

"Hmm?" Achilles noses the inside of Pat's leg, where it's soft and perfect for leaving hickeys. There were still bruises fading from their last time together. Achilles kisses the mottled yellow marks sweetly.

"If you'd bend over for me." _Oh._ That goes straight to his cock. 

Achilles is lightheaded from how fast he manages to get up, all the blood gone from his brain and pooled between his legs. The closest surface available is the table with his homework. He lays the front half of his body across the top, pillowing his head on his arms. Pat is behind him in an instant. His hands grip Achilles' waist hungrily. 

When Pat doesn't make a move, Achilles turns his head so he can see him. His cheek rests on his bicep as he strains to see Pat. 

(His boyfriend has a goofy smile on his face. "What?" Achilles asks, frowning. This wasn't part of the plan. Where was his boyfriend ripping off his pants and railing him? The super awesome against-the-table sex? 

"Nothing," Pat replies. He smooths a hand over Achilles' back and leans in to press their foreheads together. "You're just really cute when you're like this. I can't take you seriously."

Achilles pouts. Really? That was the hold up? "Aren't I always cute?" he objects. Achilles wiggles his hips. That was seductive, right? He was sure he'd seen it in a porno once or twice. Pat raises his eyebrows at him. "Shouldn't you be used to it by now?" 

Pat's smile fades into something more akin to irritation. There was the man he knew and loved. "Cuteness is over," he says, voice monotone.)

Pat's jacket hangs over the back of one of the chairs. Achilles watches from the corner of his eye as his tutor searches through the pockets and produces a small bottle of lube. "Do you just carry that around?" he can't help but ask. 

"Just in case." Pat pulls Achilles' pants down to his ankles. Achilles can't help but sigh in relief even as the cold air hits his bare ass. Finally. "Never know when I'm going to be tutoring a hot guy." 

Maybe Achilles should worry that Pat fucks all the cute boys he tutors, but that's the least of his concerns right now. "You think I'm hot?" Achilles doesn't bother hiding his grin. 

Pat pauses as he uncaps the bottle and squirts a fair amount of lube onto his fingers. "I didn't say that," he objects. Achilles starts to argue, but Pat grabs one asscheek in his hand and pulls it to the side to grant his fingers access to Achilles' hole. There's barely enough time to relax before Pat is pushing in his first finger. Achilles shouts at the intrusion. 

Achilles takes that finger easily enough. Pat only has to wiggle against mild resistance to get it in to his second knuckle. He adds a second finger. The stretch burns in all the right ways, and Achilles bites his bottom lip to restrain a moan. 

("You alright?" Pat asks. 

"Sexy tutors don't usually ask if their student is alright while fingering them," Achilles points out, voice hoarse. 

"So is that a yes?" 

" _Yes_ , my heart. I'm okay.")

Pat pushes in deeper until his fingers brush against something inside Achilles that makes him see stars. He gasps as pleasure shoots straight to his dick. Achilles spreads his legs wider, shamelessly presenting himself to the boy behind him. He's long past caring about his dignity. Anything to speed up this process. 

His tutor seems to get the message. He pulls his fingers out with a lewd pop, and Achilles whimpers at the loss. It's so devastatingly empty. He clenches uselessly around nothing and whines. 

"Spread yourself," Pat commands. Achilles lets his cheek fall against the hard wood of the tabletop and uses both hands to part his ass. It's uncomfortable against his face, but the thought goes away when he feels Pat's lubed length press against his hole. Achilles relaxes enough for Pat to push past the first bit of resistance. His mouth falls open in a long, drawn out moan. 

" _Pat,_ " Achilles sighs. It's a wonderful sensation being stretched just to his limit, one that Achilles would never grow tired of. Pat can only grunt in response. He has a tight hold of Achilles' hips and uses it as leverage to feed a few more inches of his dick into Achilles' hole. Pat's fingertips dig into tanned skin, and Achilles hopes he leaves bruises behind. He wants to look in the mirror the next morning and see proof he had been used. 

It doesn't take much time for Pat to bottom out, the tip of his dick pressed against Achilles' prostate. Achilles wriggles in an attempt to get Pat to move already, to fuck him and use him. Pat puts a hand on his back to still him. 

"You take me so well," he murmurs, and Achilles feels his face warm despite himself. He doesn't know what to do with himself, so he just nods. Yep, he sure does take a dick nicely. He'd be here all day, thank you. "I want you to read me what you have of your speech while I fuck you." 

Achilles' eyes widen. This had not been part of the plan. His Pat? Improvising? What on earth did Achilles ever do to deserve him? He'd make a porn star out of his _tutor_ yet. 

His paper is right in front of him. Achilles slides it closer and props himself up on one elbow so he can read what he's written. His back hurts at the awkward angle in which he curves his spine. "Good afternoon," he begins. His voice sounds odd in his own ears- strained. "My name is Achilles Pelides, and today I'm doing a presentation on- _Jesus Christ!_ " Pat had chosen that exact moment to pull out halfway before slamming back into Achilles. It rocks the table, and Achilles is left wheezing as his head reels from arousal. 

"Go on," Pat says. He does a mean roll of his hips that makes Achilles cry out. His gut burns with pleasure that's begging to be released, but Pat makes no move to touch his leaking cock. 

Achilles trembles as he tries to focus on the speech. It's much more difficult knowing Pat was just waiting for the right moment to pounce. "A presentation on what motiv- _ahhh_... motivates me-" His forehead hits the table as Pat aims for his sweet spot and grinds against it. Pain blooms at the front of his skull, but it's quickly overshadowed by ecstasy. Achilles is helpless to do much else than moan pitifully. 

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He just wants to be touched so badly. At this point anything would be enough to set him over the edge. Achilles whines, hoping it would be enough to convince Pat to let him come. 

Pat fists his hand in his hair once more and yanks his head up off the table. Okay, he got the message. Achilles does his best to make the words out through unwept tears. "The most- _hnn_ \- most important person in my life-" He can barely hear himself over the wet slap of Pat fucking into him and Pat's grunts of pleasure. He's picked up his pace, and Achilles' mouth hangs open as his body is thoroughly used. Yes, _yes_. He was made for this, made to be nothing more than a tool to please Pat.

"Who is?" Pat growls, leaning over Achilles and pressing his nose to his cheek. "Tell me. Tell me who matters most."

"Is-is my boyfriend, Patroclus," Achilles barely gets out. His dick hurts so bad, aches terribly for release. It bobs between his legs as Pat thrusts into him harshly, not even aiming for his prostate anymore but anywhere that could get him off. It's pretty fucking hot, regardless. Achilles worries the table might actually break underneath them and he'd have to pay for a new one. He wasn't sure how he'd ever convince his parents to give him the funds for it. 

Pat wraps a hand around his cock as a reward, and Achilles cries out in relief. "Good," Pat says, lips pressed against Achilles' neck. "You're so good to me."

"Pat- _Patroclus-_ " Achilles jerks his hips back in time to meet Pat's. Pat doesn't even have to do any work, his hand staying in place as Achilles got himself off on momentum alone. "Pat, I can't-" His stomach feels like it's twisted in one big knot, and someone was pulling at one end trying to unravel it. He wouldn't be able to hang on much longer. 

The lips against his skin are warm and gentle. "You can come," Pat reassures him, more fond than he'd been the entire scene. "You've done wonderfully. You can do this one last thing for me." He kisses the space between Achilles' ear and the junction of his shoulder, and Achilles climaxes with a sob. Pat rubs his tip and it's too much, not enough at the same time. Achilles writhes as he coats the table with his spend. 

He's exhausted, but Pat still isn't finished. Achilles goes limp in his grasp, collapsing against the tabletop in a tired heap. Pat knows he can keep going. He holds his hips and fucks Achilles like he's just another toy. Achilles only groans and tightens around him. 

Soon enough, Pat is letting out the sweet little noises he makes when he's dangerously close. His movements get jerky, and his head rests against Achilles' back a moment before his fingers tighten on his hips and he's unloading inside of him. Achilles inhales sharply at the feeling of being filled, dick twitching despite his exhaustion. It's so warm, and there's so much. It leaks out around Pat's dick and drips down his thigh. 

Pat stutters to a stop and sighs loudly. He covers Achilles' body with his own, arms coming to wrap around Achilles' waist. Achilles feels gross and sticky with sweat and cum, but he doesn't want to move for the next twenty years. 

Achilles reaches one hand up shakily to pet through Pat's hair. His dark curls are damp between his fingers. "You kept in character pretty well," he says hoarsely. He was in desperate need of a long drink of water. "Especially for someone who doesn't like porn."

"Thanks." Pat nuzzles his nose against Achilles' back. "I found it's actually pretty easy to pretend to be irritated with you."

Achilles frowns and slaps him upside the head. Pat only chuckles in response. 

… 

"No."

"But-"

" _No._ " Pat sits on the edge of his bed, shirt discarded on the floor. He glares up at Achilles even as his boyfriend straddles his thigh and traces a finger up and down his chest. Sometimes, it was enough to convince Pat. Now did not seem to be one of those times. "The deal was I agree to go raw if you clean yourself up. Remember? I'm the one that said we should use condoms."

Achilles wrinkles his eyebrows together. "That hardly seems fair," he complains. 

"It is literally the most fair thing ever." Achilles uses his finger to tilt Pat's chin up to meet his sad gaze. Pat narrows his eyes, unimpressed. "We had an agreement."

"But I can't reach," Achilles whines. "And I want to shower with my boyfriend. I need comfort. And affection. I'm so deprived, my dear Patroclus."

"What you need is some sense knocked into you," Pat grumbles. Still, he's always been all talk and no bite. He lets Achilles take him by the hand and pull him onto his feet. Pat softens when he looks down at him. His hands come up to cup Achilles' face, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to the bridge of his nose. 

Achilles hums happily. Their relationship was perfect: Pat was a super beautiful, terribly handsome, incredibly mean piece of shit, and Achilles could get him to do whatever he wanted if he looked miserable enough. "It's getting really gross," he reminds Pat, shifting uncomfortably. His boyfriend exhales in exasperation. 

He gets beard burn from Pat's face between his thighs licking at his hole, but at least he comes out of the shower clean! 

… 

Achilles learned Pat is naturally cold. It works, because he had been informed at a young age that his own body practically radiates heat. His boyfriend's head is buried against his chest as Achilles scrolls through his phone, one arm around Pat possessively. 

Pat's feet are freezing against his ankle. Achilles frowns and kicks him, which only makes Pat poke him harshly between the ribs. 

"I didn't know you could be so…" Pat trails off. 

"Sexy?" Achilles offers. He goes down his Twitter with a flick of his thumb. "Charming?" 

" _Ugh_ , no, kinky." Pat tilts his head up to look at Achilles. "Seriously? How often did you imagine getting railed by your tutor in the past?" 

Achilles bites the inside of his cheek and thinks. Honestly? There'd been too many sessions with Pat where his mind wandered too far and he had to rub one out in the bathroom lest he risk walking home with a hard-on. "Never," he lies, "I'm pure of heart. A saint, if you will." 

"Okay, sure." Pat rolls his eyes. "Right."

"By the way," Achilles says, changing topics like a pro, "my mother said hello."

His boyfriend snorts in disbelief. "No she didn't." He sticks his hands up Achilles' shirt. His fingers? Also freezing! Achilles shivers at the sudden icy fingertips invading his warmth. 

"Yes she did." Seriously, did Pat need to start wearing mittens to bed? Achilles puts his phone down so he could take his boyfriend's hands and kiss his fingertips, one by one. "She told me herself when I called her a few days ago."

Pat squints at him. "Oh really?" he asks. Achilles nods in response, holding Pat's hands to his face. They're cool against the warmth of his flushed cheeks. "What were her exact words?" 

Achilles turns so his lips are pressed against one of Pat's palms. 

_"Are you still with that boy?" Thetis had asked. "The rude one?" Their conversations always went straight to the point, a trait Achilles definitely acquired from her. The longest phone call they'd ever had was maybe ten minutes._

_He'd been hanging upside down off his bed, shooting paper balls to Aggie's side of the room. Serves him right for going home for the weekend. What did he even expect at this point? "Patroclus?" Achilles said, although he knew that's exactly who his mother was referring to._

_Patroclus… It was silly, but his name always made Achilles smile to himself. It sounded so nice put next to his. Achilles and Patroclus. Patroclus and Achilles._

_"Yes, that one."_

_"Yep. Still madly in love with him, mother." She'd gotten better about their relationship: less snarky comments, more of the occasional bored question about how they were doing. Well… more like she would ask if Patroclus had given up being a doctor yet, or if he'd gotten into any more fights. At least she was showing interest._

_Thetis sighed audibly. "I was afraid you'd say that." There was no bite to her voice, just the usual obligation to act like everything bothered her. Achilles took it as a win._

_"I can tell him you said hello," Achilles offered. He heard his mother choke on something on the other end._

_"That won't be necessary," she insisted._

_But Achilles only grinned. "Alright, I'll tell him you said you miss him and you hope he's doing well." Thetis immediately started to argue, and Achilles held the phone away from his face so he didn't have to listen to any of it. "Goodbye, mother." He hit the 'end call' button and closed his eyes, hands folded over his chest. Pat had said once he was put on this earth to irritate others. Achilles had neither agreed nor disagreed, simply because he wasn't going to let Pat have the satisfaction of knowing his answer._

__"Those were her exact words," Achilles says. "'Hello, Patroclus. I hope you and Achilles are making sweet, sweet love. Don't forget to write.'"

"You're _disgusting,_ " Pat groans. He tries to untangle himself from Achilles, but it's no use: their legs are overlapping each other, and Achilles' arm around his waist keeps him in place. 

"You love me," Achilles points out, lips curling into a smile. He pinches his boyfriend's nose. "Admit it."

"No." Pat's voice is nasally. "I despise you. You're the worst."

Achilles grins wider. "You _looove_ me! You had a big fat crush on me." He wiggles Pat's nose between his thumb and forefinger, and Pat reaches up to smack his hand away. "A tutor and his student… so scandalous of you! How embarrassing."

"You're the one who confessed first," Pat reminds him. 

"Hmm." Achilles bumps their foreheads together. Pat closes his eyes and smiles, shoulders relaxing. He's precious up close. Achilles couldn't imagine looking away. "I don't know. Sounds awfully gross of me. Where's your proof?" 

Pat opens one eye to glare at him, but there's no real heat in his gaze. He presses their lips in a soft kiss. "Love you," he murmurs against Achilles' mouth, voice dangerously gentle. It makes Achilles want to melt into a puddle. 

"Love you too, my sweet." Pat tangles his fingers in Achilles' hair and holds him in place for a proper kiss, and who is Achilles to do anything but dutifully oblige?

**Author's Note:**

> this started out self indulgent and now im just mortified. hope you enjoyed!
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kenzsza) or [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kenzsza) for updates or just for fun :D


End file.
